Ashes to Ashes, Dreams to Dust
by Alain Kurushi
Summary: Sarah is fighting the dreams of her childhood, but when they begin to invade her conscious life she starts to worry.
1. Part I

Disclaimer (which will not be repeated, since each chapter obviously followed the first, which had this disclaimer included. It is a part of the text as a whole. So there. And besides, I'm lazy today.):  
  
Labyrinth is a term used for the shape of a maze with only one path, with one opening and one centre. This was used often to build city walls, because the many corners allowed for a geometric design and could confuse enemies who tried to infiltrate the walls. In a different note, Labyrinth can also refer to a very confusing maze, assumably having dead ends and misleading paths. Labyrinth is also a film made by Jim Henson, starring a blonde mullet and a girl in a poet's shirt. The man who plays "the Cat" in Red Dwarf appears as a small furry animal with detachable appendages, also known as a "firey". A generally pleasing film, and sadly (and understandably) not a product of my amazing genius. This is most likely due to the fact that at the time the film was produced I had just learnt to say "Bananananana" and not "Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me.", which meant I was not qualified to join in the creative process. Please accept this rather fanciful and only slightly Mary-Sued offering as a tribute to the aforementioned film and not as an infringement on your Copyright laws. If you do, rest assured I will not mind being sued for my personal, pirated copy of the film, and a plush toy that bears a slight semblance to a secondary character in a Disney film. I'm afraid all my other possessions are rather worthless. And for anyone who bothered to read this far into the disclaimer, please, have a VERY nice day!  
  
Rain recently seemed to laugh as it ran down the windowpanes, bitter and dry. The gurgling, childish rain had left soon after Toby entered primary school. In fact, most weather seemed to have a sour temperament that grew in angered fervor as Toby grew.  
  
Perhaps, it's only my mood that interprets the weather, rather than the weather itself...  
  
Sarah was alone, sitting against the shadowed glass, watching rivulets bleed down past her eyes. Her thoughts spiraled in a repetitive drumming that mirrored the rain. Storm clouds lent a haunted air to the corners of the room, and she tugged her blanket closer around her shoulders. Waiting always seemed to still the world until all that was left was Sarah, the window, and the distressed elements of nature.  
  
A while...  
... It must have been five years...  
  
...ago, Karen had persuaded her father to set up bookshelves that she could share with Toby. Over the years, the books the two dreamers had cumulated had spilled over and inspired more shelves. The more recent additions being an old and barren box-shaped dollhouse (one side knocked out), Toby's old toy-chests, and an extremely oversized spice-rack that Karen found in the garage. Novels had covers cracked with overuse, and their colourful bindings instilled a scholarly mosaic that curtained off the outside world.  
  
There was a comforting atmosphere, friendly only in the way that often-read texts can be. And so as Sarah waited for the day to continue and her family to return home, she sat in the living-room-turned-library and watched, as the days grew darker.  
  
Sitting at the window always brought her thoughts back to her dreams. To the most vivid, and memorable dreams. They had been few and far between recently, but they formed a trail that would lead her towards the first dream that she could remember.  
  
I know that there were dreams before, but this one was so...  
  
So... ...real. So tangible that it forced all others out of my mind. They are all forgotten. And all afterwards, they all echo elements of that other dream.  
  
Sarah stared quietly for a minute, allowing her subconscious to make sense of it all. As the rain ebbed, the skies sighed heavily and groaned under the weight of water, eventually losing patience and lashing out at the ground below with shards of light and power.  
  
Maybe I've only ever had the one dream. Over and over again, without noticing.  
  
'Maybe that's why it seems so real...'  
  
Gravel hunched under car tires, and Karen herded an exuberant Toby alongside an uninspired "Father Figure" towards the door.  
  
'Sarah honey, we're home. How was your day?' 'Sarah, look at this! I got an A!' 'Sarah, did you remember to pick up some mince from the shops?'  
  
Sighing, Sarah folded the blanket and greeted each of her family. 'It was fine, Dad. That's pretty cool, Toby! I got the meat Karen, it's in the pot on the stove... and it's nice to see you too.' Karen smiled apologetically. 'I am glad to see you, Sarah. I'm just far too rushed at this job of mine.' Going through daily motions bags were dropped, food was prepared, and conversations adjusted themselves around the actions performed. It was a chaotic, toneless chorus. Sarah was sure that once, long ago, there had been some fashion of harmony. Somehow, long ago, it must have faded away.  
  
Only three books survived the downward migration of the Williams family bookshelves; all of which resided within reach of Sarah's dresser. Two lay inside a drawer, perhaps more denied that forgotten or ignored. The other sat with trepidation beside her bed, always in fear of a similar relocation.  
  
However, rather than being read it merely sat. Watching, watched. Never touched or opened. Gold lettering glared, defying the world.  
  
Sarah stared, making no move to touch it. The rain was laughing once more, mocking her as it drew claws across her window. The trees shook with the force of its hollow cries.  
  
A light snapped, casting the bright lettering into dull relief as shadows softened and took new shape. Toby entered the room, sitting at the end of her bed. He gazed at her quizzically, curious, as a ten-year old tends to be. 'Why were you sitting in the dark, Sarah?'  
  
Sighing, she uncurled and drew her eyes away from the book. 'Toby, what do you want?'  
  
'I... I remember that when I was little, we used to play pretend the Labyrinth.' Memories of younger siblings, sharing a story, hovered between the two. 'You always enjoyed it, but...'  
  
He fell silent, glancing silently at the book.  
  
'We stopped playing, all of a sudden. And then you began to look worse each day, like something was going rotten under your nose.'  
  
Sarah placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, and smiled unsuccessfully. 'Toby, did it ever seem real to you?' She nodded at his confused look. 'I didn't think so. It...'  
  
Sarah took a breath, before shakily continuing. '...It started to become real to me. Too real. I began to fall away from this,' she indicated a photograph of their family, taken the previous year on Toby's birthday, 'and I knew that it had to stop.'  
  
'No it didn't!' Toby stated vehemently, 'I know that I'm not as smart as you are, but it's easy to see that you need it. If you're like this without it, wouldn't you be better off just being happy?' He picked up the book, and sat it in front of her, turning to the first page of text. 'Read it, and stop being so sad, okay?'  
  
Smiling at her, Toby walked across the hall to his own room, passing Karen on the way.  
  
'Wait, Toby!' Sarah tried to follow, but Toby had jammed his door shut. Scowling at the closed door, she felt embarrassingly immature when Karen walked past towards the bathroom, glancing concernedly at Sarah. 'Sarah, are you okay? You look a little pale...' 'I'm fine.' Reigning in her thoughts, she focused on the present situation. 'Really, I'm fine,' she parried Karen's worried look with a light wave, a weak smile, 'I'm just tired. Must be the weather or something. 'Night.'  
  
Lying on her bed, Sarah felt a lump beneath her back. 'Wha... oh.' Pulling the open book out, she closed it. 'Children always see things as simple...  
  
...but Reality isn't simple... ...is it?...  
  
'...' The wind, having exhausted its reserve of complaints, left the other elements to their moans and howls. A static silence fell over the room, emphsasised by the now sparse rumbles of heavenly discontent. It was as if time had stopped...  
  
...It's like in that dream...  
  
... but as if life had intensified, as if it had been compressed into one eternal moment. A rush surged through Sarah's body, leaving nerves standing on end. Glancing at the clock, she couldn't make out its shadowed face. 'Well, no matter what the time, I suppose I'll never get to sleep now.' Perhaps spurred on by the strange energy, she retrieved the book and opened it once more to the first page. After all, it was only a story, and she hadn't had any dreams in a long time.  
  
Once upon a time there was a princess, and she had a stepmother...  
  
The morning stretched lazily in sunlight, all traces of rain gone. Sarah lay on her bed, a small book tucked in her hands. Waking slowly, her body was reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed. Feeling the sharp morning air as she left the embrace of her covers, she read the words she had fallen asleep reading.  
  
'...Give me...  
  
'The child...' softly, almost inaudibly she gasped as a sharp pain lanced through her side. 'Ow... what the...' Toby ran giggling past her, flying onto her bed in an oversized shirt and belt. He carried a sword and shield. 'Who are you?'  
  
'...I'm Hoggle...'  
  
'Nice to meet you, I'm Sarah.' Toby giggled. 'I thought so.' He raised his sword, leveling it at her neck. 'Sarah, by the power invested in me by me, I command you stop feeling sad!' 'Come on, "Sir" Toby, let's get some breakfast.'  
  
The antics of 'Sir Toby' calmed as he found a noble steed and some travelling companions among his toys. Karen had gone shopping, and Sarah's father was still asleep when Merlin bore the knightly company of stuffed animals with a long-suffering face. Toby marched proudly past Sarah, in search of a quest. 'Lady, what noble cause can I champion?' Sarah sighed, and raised a dishcloth high. 'You can save my delicate hands from the glorious task of washing up.' 'Eww! A noble cause, Sarah, not a dumb one.' He paused, and spent a few minutes thinking.  
  
'Will you play with me, Sarah?' His eyed pleaded hopefully as she rinsed bowls. 'Alright, but you'll have to help me after dinner.' 'Alright, but you'll have to wear something different than that. Otherwise, it won't be fun'  
  
'I have been through dangers untold, and hardships unknown...'  
  
'The castle at the centre of the Labyrinth. Well, Toby, this is a church, not a castle. Besides, there's no Labyrinth here. Let's just go home.' 'No way! You used to play pretend with me, why can't you now?' Sarah shivered in her white dress, despite the warmth of the sun. 'Because things changed, I told you...' Toby pouted. 'But that's stupid. Why stop playing because of a dream? Dreams can't stop you from playing, can they?' Sarah smiled. 'I guess I can't argue with that. So, where do we start?'  
  
Toby ran a short distance, plastic sword and sheath flapping against his legs. 'Okay... so you're Sarah, and you're helping me to save our new baby sister. We wished her away when she bit Lancelot. We've got to find people and get into the centre before she becomes... a turtle!' Sarah could see many flaws in the story, and tried to point them out to no avail. 'But Toby, we don't have a baby sister...' 'In the game, we do.' 'Wouldn't she be turned into a goblin instead of a turtle...' 'In the game, she turns into a turtle.' 'Oh.'  
  
Sitting on the bridge, Sarah watched Toby poke at a small rock. 'Toby, can't we rest? This puzzle's too hard.' 'Nah.. almost got it.' He knelt next to the stone, whispering softly. 'Done. Let's go, onward to the goblin city!' His excitement carried over to her, and Sarah found herself chasing after her brother. 'Onward to the goblin city!'  
  
Toby jumped onto the small boulder, glaring at an invisible goblin king. 'Give me the child!' He frowned, and shook his head. 'Give me the turtle! We have been through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.' Sarah took her cue from Toby, brandishing a club (stick) at the goblin king (air), 'We have come to the castle beyond the labyrinth, in the Goblin City, to take back what was stolen from us.' Smiling gleefully, Toby advanced to the goblin king. 'My will is as strong as yours...'  
  
'Wait!'  
  
Sarah gasped as her head began to ache, losing her balance as she cradled her forehead. 'Sarah, are you okay?' 'Yeah, Toby, I'm fine. It's just getting a little late, I'm tired.' Toby patted her arm. 'Let's go home, we can finish tomorrow.' 


	2. Part II

Sarah felt ill that evening; she decided to lie in her room rather than eat dinner. She was glad, actually, to avoid the encounter. Family ties were always slightly askew in the Williams household, but recently the barriers that separated them had solidified. It felt almost surreal to see them, as if she was looking at familiar strangers. Some moments with Toby, of course, were still the same. But being part of the family was becoming increasingly difficult.  
  
It was better to be alone, in any case. Psychologists, well-meaning friends and hopeful family had done nothing to help her with her "problem". It was easier to avoid them than to see their concerned glances and careful questions. It was easier to watch the shadows on her ceiling. As they shifted, she could let her mind drift...  
  
As they shifted, she could forget that when she slept she might dream again...  
  
The bus stop was busy, full of Uni students on their way to boyfriends' houses, to the mall, to the park, to a club on Friday night... Sarah leaned against a pole, waiting for her bus. Straight home, no outings or get-togethers for her. Who would want to be near a weirdo, anyway? Who would want to spend time with a girl who lived in a dream?  
  
Or is it they who live in a dream, seeing life through their own filters?  
  
Closing her eyes, Sarah felt another headache coming on. They had been increasing in strength and frequency lately. But they were changing, slightly... It didn't hurt that much anymore. It was all turning numb.  
  
Still, something inside her was reaching out. Whether it was for pain or pleasure, knowledge or ignorance...  
  
...Somewhere or somebody...  
  
She couldn't say. Pulling her bag onto her back, she stepped forward once...  
  
... An odd feeling of detachment washed over her hands. They changed, gained a warm colour and seemed to float through the air...  
  
Fists clenched, she glanced again. Her hands were their normal, pale, selves. Moving towards the bus, the icy, numb sensation ran through her arm, invading her blood...  
  
...Long sleeves, and a chain around her wrist. When she tried to shake it off, it tugged back...  
  
Pulling her towards the bus, the crowd rushed Sarah up the step and into the vehicle. Getting her fare out, she could almost see heavy sleeves draped over her short-armed cotton shirt. What's wrong with my head? A tingling sensation was beginning in the centre of her eyes, at the bridge of her nose. Like her arms just beforehand, it was icy... numb... strange and yet familiar...  
  
...A hand rested on her shoulder, warm and comforting...  
  
'Get outta the way!' 'Oh, sorry' She mumbled, and sat down alone near the front seat. A boy about her age glared at her. 'Watch where ya goin'.' 'I said sorry.' Closing her eyes, Sarah leant back on the poorly padded bus seat...  
  
...It felt softer than she'd expected. Warm, comfortable, and incredibly un-seat-like. A soft chuckle made her turn slightly, to see who'd made fun of her. She felt stronger than a few minutes before, and if it was that guy, he was going to pay...  
  
A familiar face smirked at her. Gasping, Sarah jumped up and reached for her bag...  
  
...An old woman had sat down next to Sarah, and was looking at her oddly.  
  
'Are you all right, young lady?'  
  
Blinking, Sarah looked at what she had sprung up from... the bus seat.  
  
'Uh, yeah... I'm just tired, exams, you know...'  
  
Shakily, she stood and waited in the aisle for her stop. Looking back on the day as she lay in bed Sarah remembered the day slowly, as if she was remembering a dream. The only time she had really felt awake that day - in fact that month - was when she had drifted off into those odd daydreams. The rest of it had been surreal to say the least...  
  
...And to say the most, it had been...  
  
Confusing. There were no words to explain it. Sarah folded herself into a ball. Who was that voice in her head? It wasn't her, it couldn't be her. Those thoughts were more like suggestions from an outside source... they couldn't come from her own mind.  
  
Shakily, she stretched. She had been shaky the whole day. Even Toby had left her alone.  
  
Am I ill? Am I really that pale and weak in the eyes of others?  
  
It had been a while since she'd looked in the mirror. Forcing herself upright, she stared at the strange visage before her eyes. Wan and drawn, her face was shadowed around the eyes. Long hair hung lank and stringy, dull and unhealthy. She had the look of a waif, a body whose spirit had long abandoned all hope...  
  
Another face began to superimpose itself over hers. Softer and warmer, framed by well-combed hair and a graceful aura. There was a slightly challenging, dangerous look about the eyes although they were smiling brilliantly. It took Sarah a minute to recognise the nose, the chin, and the forehead...  
  
...That's what I'd look like, if...  
  
Reaching a hand out, Sarah saw the image copy her, dry pale bone reaching to solid flesh. She thought it must have been a hallucination, she had felt so odd that day that anything was possible. Even so, the reflected hand seemed realer than her own. They were almost touching, and Sarah felt sad that she would encounter cold glass instead of soft fingers. If only to meet this healthier self...  
  
...Sarah stretched out her hand, and felt lost as she connected with the cold glass. Dropping her hand, she turned to drop back onto her bed...  
  
...And saw a large and empty room. Snapping her head back, she saw that her mirror had gone. Just noticing that no dizziness or headache had followed her quick movements, she paused to see a small figure in the doorway.  
  
The figure was gnarled and short, and obviously startled to find Sarah standing in a previously empty room. It recovered quickly enough, however, and grabbed her skirt by a fistful to tug her out through the doorway. 'What're you doin' in there? It's been ordered empty, you know.' Looking down at the creature, Sarah noticed something familiar about its clothing and manner. 'I'm sorry, I haven't been here long,' she explained. 'I didn't have any idea...' 'Haven't been here long? That's a good one. I first saw you... must've been... five years ago now, I think. Don't go actin' the fool for me, missy.' Herding Sarah along the corridor, the creature chuckled happily. 'O'course, you can act all the fool you like for who you'll be meeting next. He's not been 'imself lately, I doubt 'e'll notice.'  
  
A left turn, a right turn, and Sarah still felt fine. Reaching down to grab her skirt back as the creature slowed on a corner, she saw her hands...  
  
...Solid flesh...  
...Soft fingers...  
  
Warm, live hands. Her hands, yes. The same hands she had seen every day for the past four or five years...  
  
...But aren't my hands pale and worn? I've lost weight recently, they're not that rounded, but bony and...  
  
'They look strange...' A kind look stole across the short...  
  
...Goblin.. . ...Woman's face. Touching Sarah's hands lightly, she winked knowingly up at her. 'That'll be the rest you had recently, put all the life back into you.' 'It did?' Sarah knew that the words made sense, that there was a good explanation, but she was feeling vague and tired. Not so much as before, but still enough to maintain the foggy mess that her mind had become.  
  
Up a stairway, along a seemingly endless passage, Sarah followed the bustling back of her guide. Around an indoor fountain, through...  
  
...The Goblin City...  
  
...A town that seemed familiar. It was almost exactly like one from the dreams...  
  
'Well, here we are. I'd best let you go in alone... he's been a bit stroppy recently.' Sarah felt slightly apprehensive at meeting a 'Him' who was 'Stroppy'. 'Are you sure this is a good idea?' 'I'm sure it's an idea. Good or bad, well, who can tell?' With a shrug, the strange figure hurried off, leaving Sarah to face rather large doors. Reaching out a tentative hand, she leant her weight against the handle, and pushed...  
  
Reaching out a tentative hand, she leant her weight against the handle, and pushed...  
  
...'Sarah!'  
  
The door swung open, and Sarah blinked at the sudden light. Toby stood, alarmed, holding onto the other handle. 'Sarah! Wake up!' He hissed, glancing around occasionally as if he was worried... 'Toby? Where am I?' Looking around herself, Sarah realised that she was standing on the front porch of her house, feet muddied and hair tangled. The confusion and fear in Toby's eyes mirrored her own.  
  
With cups of coffee and hot chocolate in their respective hands, Sarah and Toby sat together on her bed. 'So when you've spaced out these last few weeks... you've been dreaming?' Shaking her head softly, Sarah set aside her cup. 'Not dreaming... it's almost real, too real to be a dream. They all seem to fit in with what I'm doing at the time.' Toby looked carefully at her, and sipped his drink thoughtfully. For all that he was still in grade school, he had an amazing amount of insight when it came to Sarah. Taking a breath, she continued. 'If I sit down, or turn around a corner, the next thing I know I'm sitting somewhere else, or entering an odd room. As soon as I panic, or start to affect my surroundings, I seem to fall back.' 'Where did you go? Did you recognise the place?' The look on her face said it all. 'Well... don't you want to go there? You always used to talk about how you wished you could...'  
  
'Toby, it isn't that simple. This is affecting my mind, my life, and others around me. What if one day I do... something... to someone? This is what they lock people in asylums for!'  
  
'Sarah, Shh! I'm just as scared as you are...'  
  
'But?'  
  
'But... it's been getting worse, right?'  
  
Toby leaned forward to catch Sarah's eyes before she ducked her head away.  
  
'And... and it could keep getting worse. You'll have to cope with it anyway, and if it's really...' seeing her flinch, he paused to rephrase. 'if it's really where you think it is, then it can't be all bad, right? I mean, you know your way around, and you might even meet...'  
  
He broke off as she bent forwards, long hair obscuring her face.  
  
'I'm sorry Sarah, I didn't mean to upset you...'  
  
Wincing, Sarah wrapped her arms around her stomach. 'It's not... ah! Ouch...' An aching pain had crept into her gut, stabbing slowly. There was a yearning, a pulling, in the centre of the pain...  
  
'Please... let me go...'  
  
In the centre of the pain...  
  
'Please...' 


	3. Part III

In the centre of the pain...  
  
'Please... 'Let... me...'  
  
'Go...' The pain was stronger, but Sarah had grown used to it; she could stand with a little effort. It must have been a while, though, because Toby was gone. She gathered herself, to get off of the kitchen table, but the surface she had slept on gave way beneath her hands. The bed was softer than before, and an angry but hushed voice murmured close by.  
  
'What do you mean, you led her to my door? Here's the door, and she - obviously - isn't here.' 'I swear, I saw her to the door! See for yourself, in the crystals!'  
  
Quiet as the voices were, her head reeled. Falling back onto the bed, she moaned softly. Quick footsteps, then a weight beside her on the mattress. A cool hand rested on her forehead.  
  
'A fever...'  
  
Rushed movement, and confusing whispers forced Sarah back into darkness. After some time, a damp cloth rested on her face. Kind hands caressed her back as the pain intensified, and she jolted up, retching...  
  
'No, please, hold on...'  
  
'Hold on... Sarah, hold on!'  
  
'Toby... shove off.'  
  
Rolling onto her side, Sarah drifted in the darkness until sleep overtook her. Toby shook his head, and left her to sleep in the kitchen. 'You'll have a flat nose in the morning!' He whispered, more concerned than joking, and headed up the stairs to his bed.  
  
University was quickly becoming a bore. Sarah had nothing against the Classics; to be truthful she loved ancient Latin and Greek, and mythology was her favourite - if not best - subject. Even so, she felt far too worn out to enjoy her lessons. In the silence when the lecturer took a breath, she found herself wishing that there was rain - bitter and depressing as it was, to fill in the deadly quiet air.  
  
When she really thought about it, it wasn't the rain she didn't like, it was...  
  
...The thoughts that accompanied it...  
  
'...Since she had eaten six seeds, she was condemned to spend half of each year in the underworld...'  
  
Blinking, Sarah lifted her head off of her desk. She had heard the tale of Persephone often, and she liked it well enough, but there was something in the sentence that made her listen closer...  
  
'This is, of course, the pagan Greek rationale for the changes of the seasons. The beautiful daughter of fair weather is taken to the land of the dead, eventually resulting in half a year of death for nature - winter and autumn, and half a year for life - summer and spring. However, the Isles of Britain have a slightly different 'Underground' system. In Irish mythology - originally that of the Keltoi- the "Otherworld" is a land on a slightly different plane of existence than ours. Located beneath the earth's surface, it is supposedly reached by openings in hills, faerie circles, and the like. The most interesting thing is that contrary to all other mythological under-worlds, this land is one of unsurpassed bounty and beauty. Just one taste of food from the Otherworld, or one glimpse of its inhabitants was said to cause a sickness of longing; After returning to the mortal world, all experiences paled in comparison.  
  
'Many have been said to waste away, body and soul, out of yearning for unattainable spectres...'  
  
Sarah started, dropped her pencil, and sat up straighter. Something deep inside her mind had connected...  
  
'Of all the stories of the Otherworld, most frequent are those in which handsome fairies invite mortals into the realm. These mortals enjoy their stay, but after a while grow homesick. Reluctantly returned to the Earth by their lovers, the humans realise that centuries - not years - have passed while they walked under the ground, and they are doomed to wither slowly in a lonely existence...'  
  
Taking notes, Sarah barely noticed when her fingers began to numb. The feeling grew, and crept up her arms until she could not ignore it. Icy shards pierced her skin, and she nearly cried out loud for want of warmth. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine warmth....  
  
...Warmth...  
...Warmth, and comfort...  
  
...Comfortable. Sarah rolled over and sighed. And blinked. Was that loud thump just then... Shoes crowded around her face, hands reaching down to jolt feeling back into her numb shoulders and arms. 'Miss Williams, are you...'  
  
'...Are you okay?'  
  
I'm fine... I just dozed off...' Blushing slightly, she pulled herself up. Daydreaming in lectures was okay, but falling into the aisle... 'Well, I suppose I can only say that the look of shock on Miss Williams' face would not have been dissimilar to that of Gwawl, as he realised what Rhiannon and Pwyll...' Relaxing slightly, Sarah picked up her bags and left the lightly sniggering class. She needed a rest, and it would all be okay. She would be fine.  
  
I'm fine.  
  
'Good to hear it.'  
  
She was lucky enough to reach the bottom of the stairwell before noticing.  
  
Who... who was that?  
  
'Me.'  
  
Don't play games. Who is that? I know that's not my voice.  
  
'I didn't say I was you.'  
  
Argh! Who are you? Your voice is familiar...  
  
...  
  
Are you still here?  
  
Hello?  
  
Sarah shook her head, leaning against a wall. 'I must be losing my mind. Voices in my head... no. It's just stress, and emotional fatigue.'  
  
Toby sat cross-legged on the floor, watching Sarah with a disinterested stare. 'What'cha doin, Saaarah?' Turning pages and taking notes, she simply shook her head. 'C'mon, tell me!' 'Fine. Homework. Now go away.'  
  
Here! The Otherworld. Gateways found at Sidhs(sacred hills), lakes(occupied by Each Uisge etc), and by ethereal travel - i.e. the spirit- journey similar to that of a Shaman. Usually accompanied by a protecting spirit...  
  
'What kind of homework, Sarah?'  
  
... time frame - one man spent a night with his lover, and returned after three centuries. Another spent a day, and returned to find his betrothed already married for ten years to another...  
  
Toby groaned, and pulled a sheet from the pile she had accumulated. Reading aloud, he interrupted her train of thought.  
  
'Food and the Otherworld: Eating food from the Otherworld causes insatiable yearning for more. Eating food or any matter while in the Otherworld connects one eternally to the faerie realm. Many are required to remain in the Otherworld permanently or periodically. See Greek - Persephone. Japanese - Izanami and Izanagi...'  
  
'Toby! Leave me alone!'  
  
Waving the paper, he smirked at her. 'You still zone out, don't you?'  
  
'...'  
  
'Hah! Knew it! So... did you eat something, then?'  
  
'If you know what's good for you, you'll drop it. I'm going to bed.'  
  
Staring at her dark roof, Sarah smiled to herself. She was feeling a little better, actually. Despite drifting off in her mythology lecture, there had been no distortions of reality. She hadn't been that motivated about her study for a while, either. Of course, she had always had an interest in that sort of thing... Yawning, she rolled onto her side. She would sleep, and dream, and wake up in her room again. Those last few weeks... ah, months... she must have been too worn out. So worn out, that she'd started to think...  
  
That it was all real. But now that I've gotten some rest, it's all coming together again.  
  
Warm, dream-like morning. Sarah kept her eyes closed to the world, and burrowed deeper into her pillow.  
  
'Mmm... need more sleep...'  
  
'Well that's fine, but could you let go of my arm first? I do have some things to do today...'  
  
'Get out of my head.'  
  
'To get out of your head, I'd have had to be in there in the first place.'  
  
A staged shudder and quiet snigger displaced the sense of peace that she had woken to. Warily lifting her head, she braced her arms on her pillow, and sat up.  
  
My pillow looks odd. Eugh... sore eyes. It looks like...  
  
'Aack! You!'  
  
'Are you always like this in the morning?'  
  
Sarah glared at the... humanoid (no real man... no, no human at all, could ever wear light-blue tights and retain their dignity!) on the bed and tried to comprehend how her pillow had turned into...  
  
'Are you listening to me?'  
  
'Huh...' Looking up, she noticed a rather disgruntled Goblin King watching her.  
  
'Listening to what? I'm not going to listen until you get out of my bed, and...'  
  
He held up a hand, and pointed to the sheets, which were decidedly not light blue, but instead red satin. 'This is my bed. And I was just asking you why you happened to appear overnight. The first time you showed up, it was entertaining. But to keep on barging in like this is rude and uncalled for.'  
  
'Whoa. I'm not the one who's invading other people's thoughts, now, am I?'  
  
'Invading!? You've been reaching out to me, starting conversations and then running off like some prank-telepath. That's a far cry from invading. And talking about invading, I'd like a little private space.'  
  
'Private space? Yeah, when you send me home.'  
  
'Make your own way back. I tried to be hospitable. I sat through your angst, I didn't complain when you sat on me last week, and I've managed to display mild concern when you started fainting right and left.'  
  
Sarah shrugged, and put as much distance between her and the... the...  
  
'The Fae.'  
  
Thank you. Between me and the Fae... hey!  
  
'Get out of my mind. You? Hospitality? You're deluded..'  
  
Standing, he glared at her.  
  
'Fine. Be that way, ungrateful sod! You're not welcome here anymore. Go away.' Waving his hand, dismissing, in her direction, he stalked out of the room.  
  
'Go away? How can I go away when I didn't come here in the first place? Ooh, I hate that... that...'  
  
What is he anyway? I mean, apart from the "Goblin King". There's no way I'm participating in his ego-trip by calling him that.  
  
'Well if you want to be that way, I guess you can call me Jareth.'  
  
Aargh! Get out of my mind, pervert!  
  
'Uh, excuse me, but you're the one projecting loudly.'  
  
Projecting?  
  
'With your mind... duh. Now, be quiet. I have important business to attend to.'  
  
Like what, your hair?!  
  
'...Hair?!'  
  
Karen frowned at Sarah, and walked in heels over to the front door. 'No. Business as in work. I hope you're not going to sulk all day, Sarah. I honestly thought you'd grown out of that stage.' Sighing, she shut the door behind her and left in her car. Sarah lay on the floor of the kitchen, listening to the tires roll over gravel. The pains had gone, and she had woken in peace, but a dull ache promised to grow stronger later in the day. Taking her gut at its word, she took a handful of painkillers with her to her bedroom, passing Toby on the way.  
  
Okie. I've posted a bit, now, so I think I'll sit back, and see if anyone actually enjoyed reading this before I do more. Reviews will make me very happy! And a happy writer is one who doesn't kill of the main characters. Just an empty threat there, to keep you on your toes! But please, review, if you have heart! 


	4. Part IV

Author's note: Yes, I have been slightly... very... lazy. But things will be a bit more regular from here on in, I promise!  
  
'Feeling better today, Sarah?' Toby took a light tone, and paused in his school uniform. 'No pain, then?'  
  
Yawning, she shook her head. 'I'm much better, thanks, Toby.' Failing to hide a smirk, he followed her to her room.  
  
'Nice dreams, then?'  
  
Turning on him, Sarah forced all the glare she could summon towards his face.  
  
'Isn't it time for you to go to school, Toby?'  
  
Ignoring her, he opened her bedroom door and opened one of her textbooks.  
  
'Isn't it time for you to go to school? I know that you're going to stay home and read these books.'  
  
'How could you...'  
  
Toby raised an eyebrow, and looked pointedly at her hands. They held, among other things, a cup of coffee, a sandwich, the painkillers, and a bottle of water. The cordless phone had been shoved into her pocket.  
  
'Oh. Well, so what? I'm a grown woman now; I can skip classes if I so design.'  
  
Toby helped her put her supplies on her dresser, and sighed with a long- suffering gaze out of the window.  
  
'The kids at school are so boring. They never use their imagination, except when they're told they'll fail otherwise... And I know that I could help you.'  
  
Sarah tapped her foot. If he really wanted to stay, he'd need a better excuse than that. She told him so. Indignant, he put hands on hips and tried to stare her down.  
  
'If you zone out, Mum or Dad might catch you out... again.'  
  
Sarah fumed, but inwardly admitted he had a point.  
  
'You saw that? And didn't stop me?'  
  
Sarah threw her hands in the air, and sat on her bed with a book.  
  
'Fine, stay home. But you'll have to get more food if you are.'  
  
Toby nodded, and raced down the stairs. Sarah would probably like more coffee... and some chips... and possibly some Coco Pops? Well, if she didn't want it, he'd eat it. And some ice-cream, yeah. That was real brain-food.  
  
Books... books... and Sarah's left foot. Coming back from another trip to the kitchen, Toby picked his way through discarded or useless texts to hand Sarah a biscuit. 'Well, found anything yet?' 'I don't know. All that really seems similar is the story about Persephone and Hades... but that's not really making sense, is it? It couldn't really have anything to do with my problem...' Toby rolled his eyes, and took the book, complete with the notes from class, into his lap. Grown-ups were so stupid. Taking everything at face value, and ignoring their instincts. Sarah was better than most, but she'd been acting strange recently.  
  
'It makes sense, though. I mean, when you dream, you go....' he left the sentence hanging, and Sarah made the effort not to frown at the reference.  
  
'When I go back there? Yeah. But it's only a dream. I'm sure of it.' 'Well, when we used to play the game, when I was a little kid...' he ignored her laugh, and comment – You're still a kid, Toby! '...When I was younger, you ate something, didn't you?'  
  
Sarah sat, bemused. Ate? Ate what?  
  
'Oh, surely you haven't forgotten that? And I put so much effort into that gift... I'm insulted, Sarah, really.'  
  
'Oh, shut up, you. It tasted terrible, anyway.'  
  
'That wasn't what you said at the time...'  
  
'I wasn't in control of my own mind, then, was I? Manipulative bastard.'  
  
'Fine, be that way. Touchy brat! I was just trying to stop that irritating bubble of noise that's coming out of you. See if I care about your thoughts next time.'  
  
'Ooh! Just leave me alone!'  
  
'Uh... Sarah?'  
  
She blinked. Toby was looking at her, worried. As her eyes focused on his face, he smiled.  
  
'Aha, I've got it!'  
  
Moving to sit on her bed, he gave her a self-satisfied look.  
  
'What're you so proud about, anyway?'  
  
He didn't answer, but placed a row of books open to various pages in front of her. 'Please direct your attention to Article A, in which it can be clearly seen that Persephone is eating the pomegranate of the world of the dead, which forced her to remain in that place for some time.'  
  
Standing tall, he strode one step to the second book.  
  
'In Celtic lore, the Underworld is the world of the Fair Folk, the Fae, and any who eat its food or see its inhabitants develop a great attachment to and longing for the place.'  
  
Another step, and a meaningful look at Sarah.  
  
'You know what happens on this page. You can read it yourself, if you like.'  
  
Sarah looked, and then turned her head away.  
  
'I'd rather not, if it's all the same.'  
  
A serious nod, and then Toby stood in front of the books, solemnly weighing his thoughts.  
  
'I can only point out a few things, there is no solid evidence. People who go to the Underworld and eat its food become very sick, and can die, unless they can return there. You've been dreaming about what happened years ago, but it seems more real now than before. You've been getting weak and sick, and you only get better for a short period of time, after you've zoned out. You went to a place with goblins, called "Underground", where you ate food. I'd think the solution is pretty obvious to me.'  
  
'Toby!'  
  
Sarah shook her head, and sank to the floor.  
  
'It was just a game, just a dream. I know it seems real, but we can't keep pretending forever. It's my subconscious, making connections. I probably dreamt it in the first place because of the myths... and I've probably just got the flu...'  
  
'Shut up! Sarah, you're an idiot!'  
  
Toby's face was stern, and cold. He talked quietly, but with bitter strength.  
  
'It was all real. I might not know as much as you about these stories, but I know what's real and what makes sense. If you say it's a dream, that's lying to yourself. It's just running away from this. I've seen Mum and Dad do it, and older kids do it, but Sarah!'  
  
He hung his head, and backed towards the doorway.  
  
'I trusted you. I thought you were just saying that to fool the grown-ups. I never thought you'd go so low as to lie to yourself, to become like them...'  
  
He left, and Sarah could do nothing but stare at the blurring pages of the books he had left behind. It was... real? I never let myself think that. I couldn't. It's insane, thinking that...  
  
'Oh, so I'm insane, now?'  
  
I didn't mean that. Just go away, okay? I don't want to talk to anyone.  
  
'I... I can't.'  
  
WHAT? Why the hell not?  
  
'I've tried, damnit! It's all your fault. You keep calling me, and I can't ignore it.'  
  
I call you?  
  
'Yeah, bloody loud, too.'  
  
Oh. I'm sorry. I think I'll go, now. I'll try not to do it again.  
  
'Wait... what's wrong?'  
  
...  
  
'Sarah, what's wrong? I don't want to sound concerned, but your voice has gone dull... It doesn't sound natural...'  
  
...  
  
'Sarah? Sarah, answer me!'  
  
'Sarah, answer me!'  
  
Fists pounded on her door, and Sarah forced a groan back into her gut. If they heard it, they'd be worried. They'd try and stop her. Put her in an asylum, or the like. She'd rather go now, quickly, then age and face decades, maybe, of this insanity.  
  
The voice in my head... won't go away.  
  
'Sarah, what's happened?!'  
  
It's noisy...  
  
I...  
  
I'm tired... it hurts...  
  
Sarah clutched her arms around her belly, and bit her lip to stop from crying out loud. Pills, there had been some in the cabinet. And the razor, it had done a pretty good job, once she'd figured out the best way to angle it...  
  
She was in the shower, so that her blood wouldn't stain the carpet. It was best not to leave a gruesome mark opposite to Toby's room. He'd think it was his fault, but she'd left him a note explaining everything. An apology, of sorts. It wasn't his fault she'd ended up like this, and he'd done so much to try and help, to humour her in her confused state...  
  
It doesn't hurt anymore...  
  
...It's a nice colour of red, anyway...  
  
...And I like this floating, dizzy feeling...  
  
'Sarah, where are you?'  
  
Where do you think I am, poo-poo head? Hehe... it suits you...  
  
'You're delirious. I'm coming to get you.'  
  
Great, just what I need, an imaginary hero to torment me during my last moments. How kind of you.  
  
'Where are you?'  
  
Oh, you're such a bore! I'm in the bathroom, in the shower, floating towards the ceiling, falling into shadow...  
  
'I see you now, just wait a minute...'  
  
'Oh, Gods, what have you done to yourself?' 


End file.
